Leo et Draco
by EmilyViciouss
Summary: Harry Potter is finding his life empty of purpose. Will a visit to Malfoy Manor rekindle his reason for living? Or will it only make things worse? Rated M for later.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: You know the drill.

After the War

"Hey." His best friend murmured, her hand on his arm. He brought his attention back to the bushy-haired woman. "I know things seem rough, but they will get better."

The man scratched his unruly hair and fixed his face with a half-smile. "Thanks, 'Mione. I'm fine, really. I just need… some time…" He finished lamely, looking across his kitchen table over a stack of documents.

"You know I'm always here if you need me." She said, looking blindly into the dark stove behind Harry. In fact, she really wasn't always there if he needed her, but neither one mentioned it. Finally, it was Harry that had to bring his friend back to the conversation.

"Don't worry about me, okay? I know this hasn't been easy for you either. Take care of yourself. I promise I'll be fine." He squeezed her hand, attempting reassurance.

"Just fireplace me if you need to, yeah?" Hermione squeezed back, a grateful smile on her face as she packed away the documents into a beige-colored messenger bag. She had always been the most practical of the three – simplicity and organization were her strong points. Perhaps that's way it was she Ginny requested to deliver the papers. Or maybe it was that Hermione was the only one who would still see him. Harry nodded to his best friend and stood to escort her to the doorway of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

"I would tell you to say 'hi' to Ron for me, but…" Harry tried a light laugh, which was only returned with a strained smile. It was still too soon.

"Bye, Harry." She pulled her messenger bag over her shoulder and apparated away, leaving Harry to his loneliness.

* * *

><p>It had been three months since their separation, but today was the final day of their battle. The Potters had finally achieved their divorce. Harry slumped down in an old dusty armchair that had held many previous Blacks. In the solitude of the grungy, dark house, Harry was left to his own devices. He thought back to the time just after the war had ended.<p>

It was a dark part of history for Harry, though to no one else. The wizarding world was in a constant state of celebration, which left Harry as a sort of celebrity. Unfortunately, that meant he never got a moment alone. Whenever he wasn't in the papers, he was busy signing autographs and taking pictures. He was immediately catapulted into Auror training, which was perfect for keeping his mind off the actions of the previous year except for the constant bereavement from his coworkers. It was all so tiring. He eventually learned to numb his mind and go through the motions of what the public and even those close to him expected of him – especially Ginny.

Harry believed he truly was in love with Ginny. After her seventh year, it seemed perfectly sensible to immediately move in together. The next step was the proposal, which was inevitable, and then their marriage half a year later.

The raven-haired man shook his head at the memories of their time together. He remembered Ginny on their wedding day as if it were yesterday. Ron was his best man and Hermione her maid of honor. He still couldn't tell if it was real or just the life he imagined he should have established after Voldemort's defeat. It felt like such a life time away, though it had only been a couple of years before.

Since they split, Harry felt a constant stream of guilt at the back of his mind. He had guilt for not realizing the emptiness until sooner. For breaking the heart of the woman he supposedly loved. For angering and estranging his best mate in the world. And he had guilt for tearing his own world apart.

Ever since he became an Auror it was just submersion in his work that kept him going. Most of his work was still consumed with chasing and imprisoning the last of Voldemort's followers, which seemed a good enough reason to go on at the time. As his marriage ended and time slowed, it seems the reasons were becoming less and less.

He went to work, came home, went to sleep, went to work, came home, went to sleep… Off days were torturous, sitting around Grimmauld Place like an old man and racking his brain for things to do.

Ron had all but forbidden Hermione from seeing Harry, so even his friendships couldn't save him. Naturally, every one had taken Ginny's side, leaving Harry with almost no one but himself. There were a few people here and there, but no one like a best friend.

He threw a pillow from the armchair against the wall in a sudden fit of rage, causing a cloud of dust to permeate the room. The lonely man then leapt from his chair and stomped up the stairs to his room, trailing dust after him.

Laying in bed he pulled out an old magazine from the bedside table, sliding his hands into his sweatpants as he peered at some of his nightly friends – a few witches wearing only their cheesy pointed hats while perching on brooms in compromising poses.

* * *

><p>Work was slower than usual the next day, with Aurors mostly pitter-pattering around the office doing various reports and paperwork. Some of the Aurors had their own offices, but Harry spent his workdays sharing an office with an old school friend. He had spent the last hour staring at what seemed to be the same line over and over again.<p>

"Harry, if you don't stop that, I'm going to have to petrify you." Dean Thomas glared, annoyed at Harry's tapping wand. His old peer had stayed the same between the years.

"Sorry, mate." Harry said quietly, setting his wand down and picking up a quill, forcing his mind to focus. The words seemed to blur the harder he tried to look at them.

His fellow Auror rolled his eyes and tossed a folder at him. "If you don't get out of here, you'll drive us all mad. Those are some errands I had to do today. Just some checkups on the Residents."

Harry breathed out gratefully. "Oh, Merlin. I was going to implode one more second sitting here." The antsy man hitched the folder under his arm, grabbed his wand and headed out eagerly. "I owe you one, Dean!" He yelled over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hallway.

* * *

><p>This work wasn't exactly the most exciting, but it was work outside of the incredibly dull ministry and required a somewhat busy mind. He visited countless Death Eaters that were, for whatever reason, not in the newly built Wizard jail. Tabs were kept just to ensure safety of the Wizarding community, or in some cases, even the Muggle world. They were all put on house arrest until proven either innocent or guilty. In the beginning, Aurors were visiting these confined individuals daily, but as the years went on, they continued to check in monthly.<p>

It was in the midst of his rounds that Harry Potter found himself at the gates of Malfoy Manor. Although many years had passed and Harry no longer had a reason to hate Draco Malfoy, he still found the hairs on the back of his neck prickle at the thought of the blonde.

Malfoy Manor certainly wasn't a place he'd ever cared to return to and he hadn't even seen Draco Malfoy since his trial just after the war had ended. Harry had spoken on behalf of his enemy to the Wizengamot, convincing him that Draco had actually helped in the fight against Voldemort. That he had in fact saved Harry's life.

The Boy Who Lived swallowed back a lump in his throat and rang the gate's bell. It took a few agonizing moments, but the gates finally opened, allowing Harry to enter the dark and looming estate.

* * *

><p>As Harry was escorted into one of the assured many sitting rooms at the estate, he was greeted with the all too familiar sneer Malfoy used in their school years. His pale face shone out against the green-clad room. He wore a crisp suit and crossed his legs, always the image of propriety. "Potter." Malfoy's malicious voice called, beckoning him into the room.<p>

Harry grimaced. "Nice to see you, too, Malfoy."

The platinum blonde's sneer increased as he gestured to the armchair opposite him. "How long has it been for us Potter?" He addressed his old classmate as if they were old friends, but Harry could still hear the underlying contempt.

"Oh, about four and a half years, I presume." The Auror sat uncomfortably on the green leather, the old furniture creaking as leather does.

"That's all? Feels like a lifetime..." Long pale fingers stroke his pointed chin as Draco Malfoy stared dazedly into the black marble floor.

"You know why I'm here." Harry stated, growing more uncomfortable as time passed. Just being in the house brought back unwanted memories. It was a lucky thing Malfoy had chosen a room that he had never been in before, but the house still projected the same feelings he had when he was seventeen.

"Well, as I can assume you're not here on a social call due to those ghastly red robes and ugly grimace, you are here to carry out my monthly check up." The boy Harry once knew had changed drastically since just after the war. His face had filled out and while still being the thin pale face he always had, he had grown a hard exoskeleton. He was no longer just a git and had transformed into just another bitter man beyond his years.

"Well, you're free to rape my house again, if you like. In fact, there are a few family heirlooms I believe you haven't plundered yet. There's one now." Draco stood suddenly, fire burning in his eyes as he crossed the room to a portrait behind Harry. On it was a man that looked very Malfoy with light blonde locks and the matching sneer. "This is my great-grandfather, Titus. I'm certain you'll take him next? Burn him for suspicion of being a conspirator against the Ministry?" The man in the frame looked horrified. "How about that chair you're sitting on? I'm almost certain I heard it plotting against Kingsley Shacklebolt." Malfoy was pointing at the chair, wild eyes flashing. "You had better take it away too, before it brings Voldemort back from the dead. You never know with armchairs… Nasty little buggers."

"Malfoy…" Harry tried to interrupt.

"Please, I know you've been through every room in the manor about a thousand times by now, but since the last time one of you were here, I might have gathered a legion of the undead to do my bidding. If you don't stop my pure evil will you may end up with a truly devastating outcome. The Ministry against me, well, we are all aware of how that will end up. You might as well cut your losses and just send me back to Zatvor now before I do something really terrible."

"Please sit, Mr. Malfoy and hold your tongue." Harry used his most commanding Auror tone to stop Draco's outbursts.

A muscle jumped in his jaw, but the maddened man sat anyways.

"I'm sure that you're aware that I have to report this to my department." Harry frowned as he watched Malfoy deflate back into the armchair, a once so poised man into a small sad one.

"Yes, of course." The deflated man nodded, slumping further into the chair. "Draco Malfoy, gone mad at the ripe old age of twenty-four. They public will eat it up." A piece of blonde fell into the other's face. His eyes were cast downward as the painful thought of staying for yet another month washed itself over him. The two sat in silence as Harry began to feel a surprising kinship for his enemy. They were both trapped. They could both see no way to be finished with the everlasting torment of dormancy.

Harry sighed. "Why did you lie?"

Draco glanced up, surprised. "Lie?"

Harry shook his head. "It doesn't make sense. They would have let you go. You didn't have to lie about joining Voldemort. You had no choice. Everyone would have understood… what with your father…"

"You don't know anything." Draco gritted his teeth, passion back in his eyes. His voice grew hard and gritty. "Don't presume you knew my father."

Harry clamped his jaw shut, bewilderment written all over his face.

Draco simply looked away as Harry matched his eyes. "Please leave."

"I haven't finished…" Harry argued petulantly.

"You have enough to write in your report. I'm certain I've deserved whatever is coming to me. You may leave, if you will." Draco said quietly, standing abruptly and leaving the room without another word.

And with a "pop" Harry Potter left.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Not my characters. Blah, blah, blah.

Chapter 2

"Dean?" Harry piped up one day over a slightly calmer bout of paperwork. It had been a week since the young wizard visited Draco Malfoy and the encounter was haunting him.

"What is it now, Harry?" Dean answered without glancing up from his work. He had been growing more and more terse with Harry, it seemed.

"Are you normally the one who visits Malfoy?" He asked hesitantly and in a whisper. "Or is it that Williamson does the Residents too?"

"Oh, Merlin, mate. How long are you going to go on like this?" Dean slammed his quill down and looked at Harry exasperatedly. "Why don't you just go back if it's upsetting you this fucking much?"

"Well, don't you think it's a bit unfair?" Harry responded heatedly. "He's been stuck in his house for years. I think I'd be just as mad as him if I had to be stuck in the same awful place for that long."

"No, Harry, I don't think it's unfair. Draco Malfoy is a known Death Eater." Dean crossed his arms in front of his chest. "We need to keep the people safe. What do you think we've been fighting for, mate? This is justice!" He finished passionately, attracting the attention of other Aurors walking by their office door.

Harry hunched down as if to keep the conversation more private and began in a whisper, "You were there with me, Dean. He saved us. He never wanted to hurt anyone. He was forced into it. I thought you were with me on that!"

"That doesn't account for anything else he might have done before or even after that day." He argued, exhausted. "You don't know for sure!"

Harry slammed his glasses down on the table, causing them to break once again. "Maybe I don't know for sure, but he's done nothing in the past few years that was in any way suspicious. He should be in the clear!"

Dean sighed and put his head into his hands. "Look, I don't want to argue about whether or not Draco Malfoy is innocent. I want you to understand that there's nothing you can do. He's fucked either way."

"That's not fair. And that's not justice." Harry stared combatively at his partner and when he received no response, stood and left without a backward glance. Even after the war ended, there were still witches and wizards suffering at the hands of the Ministry. Harry would no longer stand for it.

* * *

><p>"I almost didn't let you in." The cold sneer began before Harry even had the chance to enter the same green sitting room. The man in question was sitting in the very same spot he had the week before, but instead of a suit was wearing simple jeans and a white button-up shirt. The young man eyed Harry without emotion as he sat on the green leather.<p>

Harry seemed still uncomfortable, but much more confident in his actions this time around. He looked Malfoy in the eyes, almost too intensely, but was committed to learning the thoughts of the imprisoned man. "I'm glad you did. I need to talk to you."

"I have to say, I was surprised I didn't have the head of the Auror department after me. With the…" Draco cleared his throat with a cough, "interesting events of our last meeting. I expected you to declare I was unfit for house arrest and would have sent me back to some awful solitary confinement worse than the one I suffer now."

"That wouldn't have been fair, would it have?" The brunette frowned discontentedly at Malfoy's disdain for the Ministry.

Malfoy shifted in his seat and wore a bemused expression. "Well, you aren't exactly a fair bunch, are you?" His eyes glittered dangerously.

Harry could feel his anger rising once more. Something about Draco Malfoy made his blood boil. Perhaps it was his lack of regard for anyone other than him. Or it may have been his complete egotistic cockiness. "We do what we can. You know it hasn't been exactly easy deciding what to do with all of our Residents. Just be lucky you aren't wasting away in Zatvor!"

"Have you ever been to Zatvor, Potter?" The blonde interrupted, staring now out a large window onto his rolling estate.

This stopped Harry short. "Well, not exactly, but I know what it looks like."

"Perhaps you should understand exactly what you threaten before you threaten it." The blonde continued to stare out the window, completely ignoring the increasingly infuriated Harry Potter.

"Maybe you should just get some friends. You don't have to suffer here you know!" Harry stood and shouted to get heard as Draco just ignored his childish antics. Harry let out a cry of rage and then apparated out and back to Grimmauld Place, completely skipping out on the last couple of hours of work time. Even work couldn't still his mind anymore.

He stormed into the kitchen and made a beeline for one of the cabinets. He pulled out a bottle of Firewhisky and tore off his Auror robes there in the kitchen. He needed some sort of release – a way to forget for a moment everything in his life.

Somehow, in the next few hours, Harry Potter found himself half-naked, wearing only blue jeans with no shoes, at the gates of Malfoy Manor, buzzing at the gate until it would be opened. With a bottle of the old Firewhisky in hand and a fuzzy idea of what he wanted to say, he cheered loudly when the big wrought-iron gate swung open and he made his way into the oversized house.

* * *

><p>The next morning was like being crashed into on all sides by bulldozers while a giant crab held his head between its claws. He let his eyes stay closed as he brought his silky sheets up around him.<p>

Silk?

Harry's eyes popped open and despite the searing headache, he examined the room he was in. It was dark in the room, thank Merlin. The walls looked to be a light color, perhaps even white, but it was hard to tell in the dark. A few pieces of furniture and art decorated the walls and nothing looked to be out of the ordinary. It was clearly someone's bedroom, but whose was a mystery.

He decided, against his head's will, to get up only to find he was missing all of his clothing and, more importantly, his wand. He bunched up a sheet around his waist and stepped cautiously out of the bedroom, being careful to creep in case he was in more danger than he bargained for.

The first few rooms were deserted of all furniture, as if it were a house that was for sale. He found a set of stairs and crept down them, keeping his ears sharp. He could hear clinking and water running, so it was clear he wasn't alone. He grabbed the first weapon he could find. It was an old-fashioned table lamp – one of the ones you had to gas up in order to work. Harry held the lamp in one hand and the toga in the other as he grew closer to the clinking.

He finally came upon the room and hid right outside the doorway, preparing to strike. He summoned the courage and banished his headache as he lunged into the room, hoping to win back his clothes and his wand. What wasn't expected was the greeting of laughter from his prey.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Potter." There stood Malfoy and the man that always answered the door, perhaps the butler. They both were doubled over with laughter at the sight of Harry with wild eyes, toga and weapon. They stood in the kitchen, the butler cooking something over the stove while Malfoy cleaned a few dishes in the sink.

There was so much wrong with the picture, Harry found himself at a loss for words. He simply stared at the scene in front of him with a mixture of annoyance and relief floating across his face. It was good to know he wasn't in a stranger's house, but Draco Malfoy? Not his first choice. "What's…?"

Draco was turned to the sink, but his drawling voice rang out into the large kitchen. "You should probably sit down, Potter. I think you might have pickled your own body in alcohol last night. I'm surprised you can even stand." The two men shared another laugh at Harry's expense and the young Auror grew a pink tinge to his cheeks.

He set the lamp down, attempting a little bit of dignity as he sat in a small breakfast nook nearest him. He kept one hand on the sheet as his let his head fall into his free hand. "Does somebody mind telling me what happened last night? And do you mind doing it quietly?"

"Well." Malfoy shut off the faucet and came over to join him at the nook a little too eagerly. "Where to begin? You came over here, shirtless, yelling something about justice or injustice and something else that I have yet to decode. You asked for another bottle of Firewhisky because you were out. I told you no and you said, and I remember this part perfectly, 'Fuck off, you mangy twit. I'll curse you so hard you'll be shitting upside-down. Or is it sideways?'"

"Upside-down or sideways?" The butler mocked over his cooking dish.

"After you debated the upside-down or sideways issue a few times, you hit one of my favorite tables, which you are going to pay for, and knocked it over as well as quite a large vase of flowers. You then got all wet and began to strip yourself of all clothing. It really rather went downhill from there. You told me that you liked the way I did my hair now…" Malfoy rambled on, enjoying every torturous moment. When it came to the part where Harry was humping the banister he had to interject.

"Alright. Fuck. I don't want to hear any more." Harry groaned as the butler brought three plates of eggs and bacon to the table. Also set in front of him was some kind of liquid mixture in a cup that took on a sort of grayish hue. Harry eyed it suspiciously.

"You'll want to drink that. I suspect it will make you feel a bit better. An old family recipe." Draco said with a lavish of his arm. The somewhat cherry blonde picked up his fork and dug in to his meal.

The young Auror rose a brow, but tried a sip anyways. "Aw, what the fuck Malfoy? This tastes like shit. And feet." He pushed it away as well as the plate of food.

"Go on." Malfoy pushed it back in front of Harry. "If you don't drink it, you'll be feeling like shit all day."

The brunette glanced up at Malfoy, surprised at the other's apparent concern. Malfoy simply slapped on a sneer and took another bite. The morning went along those lines with Harry sipping the disgusting mixture and Malfoy laughing at him. It seemed that the potion really was worth it as the headache ebbed and he lost some of the ache and stiffness in his limbs.

Harry eventually ate his meal, too, but something finally dawned on him. "Hang on. Where's my wand?"

Malfoy nodded, standing. "We had to take it from you when you tried to curse Charles, here." The butler nodded as well, solemnly. "Luckily, his eyebrows are still intact as you attempted to hex them off. I'll give it back to you as long as you promise to leave everyone's facial hair alone."

Harry smiled slightly and held his hand out for his wand. "Give it here. I promise I won't use any of my eyebrow charms on you. It's the beard growing ones you have to watch out for, though. I'm particularly gifted in the beard growing business. I can have you wearing a beard as long as Dumbledore's in seconds, if you don't watch out."

Malfoy grabbed the wand from the counter and came back, though his smile had vanished.

Dumbledore – still a sensitive subject. Harry's smile faltered too as he grasped his wand from his old school enemy. The blonde looked away and stood awkwardly at the edge of the table. "I suppose you'll be wanting your jeans back?" He nodded to Charles who stood as well to go retrieve them. "Though I suggest you find something else to put on before you go to work. Showing up wearing only jeans might lose you your job. We wouldn't want that now, would we?"

The brunette looked at him suspiciously. "No, indeed." Harry slid out of the nook, managing somehow to keep the sheet covering all of the important parts. "I suppose I should be going. Thank you for… everything, though."

The glint returned to Malfoy's eye, then. "Well, I suppose you just owe me, then, Potter."

The man winced, not liking the sound of it. He allowed a second or two before responding. "I guess I do."

Malfoy laughed, though it sounded like more of a cackle. "Goodbye, Potter." He sauntered out of the room, leaving Harry to wait for Charles to bring his clothes.

* * *

><p>"You're late." Dean whispered between clenched teeth and raised eyebrows. "Leave early yesterday and show up late today? You'll be lucky if he let's this one go."<p>

"He owes me overtime for last month." Harry argued without bothering to look his partner in the eye. He was still angry with his fellow Auror for their argument the day before. "Plus, it was a personal day. I needed the… time."

Dean sighed. "Look, Harry. We're friends, right?"

The other didn't bother to reply.

"I'm just worried that you're taking this whole Draco Malfoy thing a bit harder than you should. Let it go. You don't want to be butting heads with the department over a man you loathe –"

"Who said I loathed him?" Harry interrupted heatedly.

Dean allowed a little laugh. "Um, you did. Basically every day of the seven, well, six years we spent at Hogwarts."

"Maybe he's changed." Harry challenged. "You don't know."

"Look. I'm not arguing with you about this again. I'm just saying…. Maybe you should let it go." Dean returned to his work, shaking his head.

For one thing, Harry felt he couldn't let it go. For some reason, Malfoy had become a constant topic his mind defaulted to. Anyways, that morning he had been kind, helpful, in fact. He had changed, hadn't he?

It was by some stroke of brilliance that Harry found himself smiling in what felt like the first time in ages. It was funny how someone you think you knew could change so much in just a few short years.

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were fast becoming… friends…


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: Per the usual.

Chapter 3

Sweat ran down his arms and his palms were clammy as he stood once more at the gates of Malfoy Manor. He rang the bell and bounced a little bit on the balls of his feet as his heart picked up a little in tempo. It seemed with every visit he got more and more uncomfortable, but he couldn't keep himself away.

"Potter," said the familiar drawl through a small speaker. It was a trace of muggle technology in an otherwise wizard world – probably a newer addition. The old Malfoys would have had nothing to do with it. He located the small box to his right, attached to the fence.

"Hi." He said, lamely, pushing a red button on the box. He scratched his head, embarrassed.

A small laugh escaped through the speaker. "Well, Potter. I don't know if I should invite you in. Who knows what kind of trouble you could get into this time?" He mused, and then clicked off.

"No liquor, this time, I swear." Harry laughed nervously. "I guess I just wanted to thank you in person… I guess." The young man kicked at the ground.

"You guess?" Malfoy laughed and paused a moment, leaving his old enemy to struggle with his discomposure in silence. Draco laughed as he watched the monitor in front of him. Harry clearly had no idea he was being watched as he had begun to check his armpits and breath for smell. Just as he began to pace back and forth in front of the gate, Malfoy finally broke and pressed the buzzer to open the gate.

The butler answered the door, per the usual. "Hey, Charles."

Charles stepped aside, beckoning Harry in. "Come on in, Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy is waiting for you in the sitting room."

"Thanks. I know where it is." He nodded appreciation to Charles as he left to do whatever it is that butlers do.

As he stepped into the room, he noticed Draco wasn't in his usual place in the armchair, but rather leaning against the wall next to his grandfather's smug face. Again, Malfoy was in simple jeans and this time a simple white t-shirt. By his third visit, it was casual wear, apparently. Harry couldn't suppress a chuckle.

"What?" Malfoy demanded, confused eyebrows knitting together.

"I don't know." Harry's eyes looked at the floor, a smile playing on his still young face. "This all just seems a bit surreal. I never thought I'd be coming to apologize to… well, you."

"Well, Potter." He spat through a smiling sneer. "I expect you to grovel at my feet. I simply won't be happy until I see some genuine begging for forgiveness."

Potter laughed and scratched his neck. "You shouldn't have given my wand back. I can still hex you."

The blonde rolled his eyes. "Ooh. I'm so scared. What would I do with a beard? I might have to resort to shaving like a muggle."

"Alert the media. Malfoy's really gone off his rocker."

They laughed together for a moment, each of them forgetting past hatred. "Come on." Malfoy pushed off from the wall and headed out. "I hate this room."

* * *

><p>"You seem all together too happy." Dean finally said after watching Harry walk to into the room with a genuine skip in his step. "I thought you wanted to take the department down or something."<p>

Harry sat down, plopping a folder onto his desk and whipping out a quill. "I just took out a troll in Sortiarius Mall. It was…. " He sucked a breath in through his nose, thinking about the word to describe. "Invigorating!"

Dean laughed. "Lay off the caffeine, eh? I know trolls can be quite lovely, but let's not go on and on about it."

"Shove off. You're just jealous because you've been here all morning instead of going to New York with me to rid the American Witches and Wizards of one of our largest trolls. Apparently the American Wizarding Bureau, awful fucking acronym by the way – AWB is in no way catchy, cannot handle something as terrifying as an English troll." He added sarcastically.

"Fucking Americans." Dean laughed as he dipped his quill. "Always calling on us to clean up their messes."

"Actually this one was truly our fault. Some witch named Lola set it on them, thinking it was a positively captivating practical joke."

"Better watch out for Lola." Dean warned mockingly. "She might bludgeon the countryside with her killer trolls. You know I think it was Lola who clogged up the owl atrium. She's out to get the world, I'm telling you."

"I think Lola might have stolen my fucking lunch again! I can't find it anywhere!" Harry yelled to the department amidst giggles from his partner.

* * *

><p>Buzz kill for the ages. Harry was sitting at the kitchen table chatting with Kreacher about housework or whatever when the doorbell rang and his godfather's mother went about screeching to the house about half-bloods and disgraces to the Black family name.<p>

Harry went to the door expecting perhaps someone from the Auror department or maybe even Hermione, but his breath caught in his throat when the person at the door had gingery red hair, freckles and a deep scowl on her face. Harry let out the breath he had been holding as his face grew bright red. "Ginny…"

"I'm not here to talk, Harry." She avoided his eyes as she pushed past him into the dim hallway. She went straight to the kitchen and sat down, pulling off her designer gloves and out a packet from her also designer bag. "Tea please." She commanded as soon as Harry entered the room.

Harry felt an argument creep into the pit of his stomach the way his anger used to settle, but he pushed it away as he pulled up the kettle. _Aguamenti_, he whispered into the kettle. And, _Incendio_, he whispered again to light the stove.

"I want to sell the apartment." Ginny said without further ado, avoiding Harry entirely. "I can't stand living there anymore. It's got too much of you in it. I want my own space."

"Gin. I've already given you half of everything I have. Can you really be asking me for more?" The young divorcee knew he shouldn't have been surprised. Ginny seemed to only be interested in the fame and the fortune that came with Harry Potter. It had been that way ever since they had begun to date, though he hadn't realized it until later.

"Merlin, Harry. I'm not asking you to pay for a new place to live." She rolled her eyes and set out some papers. "I need you to sign some papers so I can sell... _it_." She couldn't even bring herself to say 'our apartment.'

"Why didn't you just have Hermione bring them over? Why come here yourself if you didn't have to?" Harry asked, allowing some bitterness and nastiness enter his tone.

"Why do you always have to do it the long way?" Ginny _Accio_-ed a cup from the cupboard and conjured herself some steaming hot tea while Harry scratched his head – a nervous habit. "Because Hermione was busy, though I suspect she was trying to get me over here to talk to you for whatever reason."

Harry came over and sat across from her at the table glancing over all the papers he had to sign. "You know as well as I do that this apartment was never ours. It was yours. You picked it out. You filled it with useless shit…"

"And you ignored me in it." She finished for him, eyebrows up and hard exterior, keeping any expression off her face. "Simple as that. Now sign."

"Don't pretend that's not what you wanted, Ginny. You didn't give a shit about me. You just wanted everything else." Harry growled, _Accio_-ing his quill with a flick of his wand.

"Sign, please, Harry." Ginny said, emotion finally in her voice as she begged. "I can't stand to be here with you anymore. Sign so I can go find somewhere else to live. You're everywhere in that place. You're like a fucking ghost. I can't piss in peace anymore."

Harry looked taken aback at her show of emotion. Real or unreal it had him side-lined. "Ginny…"

"What?" She screamed to the house. "Merlin, if you could just please sign the papers!"

"I never wanted it to end like this Gin." Harry found himself begging her with his voice. "I told you that I was confused. I didn't even know which way was up, I was lost…"

"Don't call me Gin." She wiped her mascara streaks and plastered on her old hard look. "Sign the papers, Harry. I'm done with this."

Harry looked at her, mouth agape, but signed at all the appropriate places in silence.

When she left, her tea still steamed.

* * *

><p>"I was dangerously close to bringing the Firewhisky, but I managed to leave it in its rightful place on my kitchen table." Harry forlornly admitted into the little box. "However, I was weak enough for one glass."<p>

The gate buzzed open and Harry found himself welcomed by Malfoy himself this time. Visits had come more often of late and the two of them had truly become friends. Both pretended like they always had been, as if school had been an entire lifetime ago, though it had only been a few years earlier.

"Draco." He moaned as soon as he reached the door. They were now on first name basis, though that was still a little strange. "Will it never end? The constant barrage from my old life just keeps on fucking coming. No matter what I do, I always have to face my old… blah…."

"Come in, Harry." The name still felt strange on Draco's tongue, as if it didn't belong there, but he tried it anyway. "I think maybe you might need a good stiff drink, this time. I'm gonna stop you at twelve. Maybe thirteen. Yeah, thirteen's a good number."

* * *

><p>The pair sat in silence as Harry wondered at himself where to begin over his bubbling drink.<p>

"Well, I can assume it was one of the Weasels." Draco winced. "Sorry. Weasley's."

"A Weasel is right." He said, allowing himself to complain to someone. Finally, a neutral party he could really let go on. "She just keeps coming back to fuck me in the ass."

Draco snorted into his drink.

"You know what I mean. And all I keep doing is trying to make everyone else happy. Well, what about me? I'm not fucking happy!"

"Fuck her!" Draco chimed in heartily. "And all her fucking happiness!"

Harry couldn't help but smile. "You know, I think you're taking this a little too callously."

"What can I say? I'm a Malfoy. It's what we do best." He pretended to bow regally.

The other laughed. "What would I do without you?"

"I have no idea. You would likely have shown up naked to someone else's house, screaming old drinking songs." Malfoy nodded knowingly.

"Ugh. Old drinking songs?" Harry winced and shook his head. "I regret that night so much the more I find out about it."

"Don't regret it!" Malfoy said a little too quickly. Then, embarrassed, he added, "If it weren't for night, we wouldn't have been able to… get close…"

Harry's smile faded as he looked at the other with new eyes. Friends. Close friends. Blue eyes avoided his piercing greens as Harry appraised his drinking buddy. "Yeah… That's true."

Draco glanced up, surprised. He had just realized how close they were, knees almost touching on the sofa they shared. Each of them was leaning against the couch towards each other and the pair seemed to have gravitated towards each other.

The brunette looked shocked yet fixated on the blonde as if he were a moth and Draco a flame. Their noses almost touched while they stared into each other's eyes and found each other in them.

Their lips pressed softly at first, each of them unsure. Draco's lips were soft while Harry's were full. Harry let his eyes flutter close as he deepened the kiss, leaning into Draco as his tongue begged entrance.

Draco quickly obliged, allowing access to Harry as their lips moved and they crept towards each other on the sofa. Draco reached behind and set his drink on the table, then took Harry's and did the same. Harry allowed his hands to grasp at the other's shoulders as Draco rested his hands on Harry's neck. Draco massaged his own tongue against Harry's as he pushed against the other, leading him to lye down on the couch, Draco strewn on top of the young green-eyed man. Harry's eyes were closed as he allowed Draco to take control. The brunette rocked his hips up to meet Draco's commanding him to close the distance between them. Draco moaned a deep guttural sound and Harry Potter's eyes snapped wide open.

"Oh, fuck." He stopped all movement in his body, freezing Draco as well. The blonde saw the sheer horror in Harry's eyes and jumped off gracefully, landing on the opposite side of the couch.

Harry sat up and pushed himself away from Draco. "Oh, Merlin. I think…"

Draco looked away, cold ice returning to his face, but not before a look of hurt that Harry definitely noticed.

"I'm so sorry. I should go." He said, standing without daring to look at the blonde. He disapparated from the spot and then Draco finally let the crushing disappointment glue him to the sofa as he collapsed where Harry had just been.


	4. Chapter 4

Insert usual DISCLAIMER.

Chapter 4

"Harry." Dean had called his partner's name a few times to get his attention. "I need to talk to you about something.

"What is it?" Harry asked, irritated. Since the night before at Malfoy Manor, the young man went right back into his depressive tailspin.

"It's about Ginny." The other said, his voice a little higher than normal.

Harry looked up at his friend at last to see a truly nervous man. His hair was unkempt, his eyes slightly wilder than normal, and he couldn't quit fidgeting with his hands. Harry's heart dropped down to his stomach. The Auror's overactive mind convinced him that something had happened – that she was dead, lying somewhere cold and motionless. The images didn't stop coming: Ginny hit by a car, Ginny in St. Mungo's with some disease, Ginny with wrists slit. "What about her?" He asked, though he couldn't hear his own voice with his ears ringing as loudly as they were.

"I wanted to tell you that…." Dean was looking at the floor, afraid to meet Harry's eyes.

"What is it?" He finally heard his own voice scream as he grabbed Dean's shoulders and shook him.

"I just wanted to tell you that we're dating!" Dean finally got out, wild eyes looking incredulously at Harry. "Merlin, mate, you don't have to grab me like that."

Harry let go of his friend and stepped back, reeling. The wall behind him caught him for support. His first feeling was relief, but that was quickly followed by betrayal. "You're dating her?"

The other nodded, self-consciously.

"How long?" He managed to squeak.

"A couple of months. I wanted to tell you, Harry, but she asked me not to. What was I supposed to say, mate? 'Sorry, Harry, but I'm dating your ex-wife.' I just couldn't." Dean looked frayed.

Although Ginny had been a constant source of strife in his own life, he still felt a pang of emotion for her. He would probably always love her – an idea that only made him feel more guilty and confused for their end. Dean could make her happy, but he, the apparently infamous Harry Potter, couldn't. Even marriage wasn't enough to keep them together. Above all was jealously stemming from the fact that even his ex-wife had found someone in the wake of all the loneliness.

"I'm taking a personal day." Harry took off his robes and dropped them on his chair, putting his wand in his shorts and leaving.

He couldn't stop the thought that it was possible Dean was lying. That it had been more than a couple months and that they were dating during the end of Ginny and his marriage. The idea floored him with more jealousy and anger as he apparated from the building, straight back to Grimmauld Place.

* * *

><p>The banging on the door finally got to be too much for Harry. The young man pushed all the fruitless porn from his bed. It was all porn that simply didn't satisfy him anymore, though he refused to ponder why. He solemnly raised himself from his bed and somehow shuffled his way down the stairs to the front door, pulling the curtains around Mrs. Black's screams as he passed them. He yanked the door open and blinked into the sunlight, relying on the door for support. The sun streamed through the opening, causing Harry temporary blindness and he wished fleetingly that he owned a pair of sunglasses.<p>

"When a man doesn't answer his door, it means he doesn't want visitors!" He shouted, squinting his eyes at the human shape in front of him and made to slam the door in whoever's face was in front of him.

"Blimey, Harry." Ronald Weasley stood at his front door, forcing it open, actual concern written all over his face. "You look terrible."

The first five words Ron had spoken to his best friend in almost a year had Harry burst into tears the moment he heard them. All of the stress and loneliness of the past months rushed over the twenty-five year old and it was all he could do not to collapse there on his own front porch.

"The estrogen is going to kill me." Ron muttered as Harry embraced him in a huge man-hug.

"You missed my birthday, you fucking prat!" Harry managed between sobs.

"Ugh. You stink." He laughed over his friend's blubbering. "Go take a shower, then we can talk."

* * *

><p>"Hermione made me come." Ron admitted as he sat at the kitchen table across from his old friend.<p>

"Oh." Harry sat back, disappointed. "Of course she did."

"Don't look so upset about it." Ron shook his head. "I wouldn't have come if I didn't want to. I heard that Ginny is seeing someone else."

Harry shook his head. "I don't want to talk about her."

"You have to know that you've always been my best mate. But… family, you know." Ron finished lamely, giving that as his only excuse for almost a year of neglect.

"I always thought I was family." Harry argued, head in his glass of Firewhiskey.

Ron took a swig of his own. "Ever since Fred…"

Harry shook his head even more. "You don't have to say anymore."

"I just mean that my mom has been kind of…" Ron continued.

"Stop, Ron. You don't have to explain anything." Harry looked like he would be sick.

"Oh, yes he does." Hermione stepped into the kitchen, covered in soot. "Your fireplace is filthy, by the way, Harry. What Ron means to say," the woman's eyes shot daggers at her boyfriend, "is that he's been a complete idiot and he's sorry for abandoning you." She sat fiercely beside Harry.

"Right." Ron rolled his eyes. "Exactly."

"I went by the Auror department yesterday, Harry." Hermione said seriously, ignoring Ron. "You haven't been to work in ages. It's been a few months, Dean said."

Harry automatically bristled with the mention of his partner.

"I know why you don't want to be there, but don't you think you should try?" Hermione touched his arm empathetically. "You can't just sit here all day long."

"Why are you guys here?" He wailed, putting his head down on his table. "I just need a little time to think."

"Ron and I think you don't need anymore time to think. In fact, we've decided we're staying here until you get everything back together." Hermione stood and brushed off her clothing as Harry groaned and gulped back his drink.

* * *

><p>Harry and Hermione were in his room, the both of them sorting through piles of built up dishes, magazines and clothes.<p>

"Harry? I think your porn collection is a little unhealthy." Hermione noted as she put magazine after magazine into a big black plastic bag. "I mean, I know you're lonely, but…"

Harry turned bright red. He had forgotten about the stacks and stacks of porn he had built up. "I know, Hermione. I know." He looked into his lap, ashamed. "It's not exactly what you think."

Hermione opened up another bag. "Oh?"

"I can't…" Harry shivered., then stopped. "Never mind. I don't want to talk about it."

"You have to talk about it at one point or another." Hermione stopped what she was doing and focused on Harry, hardness in her face. "I wont let you keep blowing me off. Just let me in, Harry. It will be good for you."

Harry sat down in a spot he just cleared of clothes. "No matter what I….** read**… I can't… you know…"

"Oooh." Hermione said slowly. "I see." Though she looked as if she could tell Harry was holding something back. Her eyebrow was raised and she looked at her friend as if he were translucent.

Harry grew even redder. "Actually, I guess I meant no matter what I read, I can't... But my mind takes me to another place entirely, and then I… can…"

Hermione looked at him in the same I-can-see-right-through-you way for a few seconds, and then continued to shove magazines into the bag. "Well, I think wherever that place is, you should go to it."

"I can't." He argued miserably. "I can never go back there."

"I don't think we're talking about Ginny." She said quietly.

"No." He admitted, avoiding her gaze. "We are not."

Hermione smiled. "That's a start, Harry!" She tied off the bags and threw one over each shoulder. "Next step is to go find your place. Until you do, I don't think your mind will be quiet. And then you'll never get out of this house." She looked disgustedly around the room before hauling off the garbage.

* * *

><p>Somehow, Harry found himself at the gates of Malfoy Manor, at the urging of Hermione. He never told her whom he would be visiting, but then again, she had never asked. She seemed to think it was his business and his business alone, which made Harry more than grateful. Ron had returned to their home as he had been no help to either in their work towards Harry's healing and Hermione was rather a much pleasanter housemate. If possible, Harry was just starting to enjoy himself again.<p>

That is, until this moment, of course.

The young man pressed the buzzer with sweaty palms and Malfoy's cool voice came over the intercom. "Go away, Potter."

"Malfoy, please. I just need to talk to you." Harry begged into the mic.

"It's been months since you've been here. Why should I let you in now?" Draco mused lazily, though Harry could hear the daggers in his voice.

"You know why." He turned red again, and he hid his face behind his hands. "I'm miserable. I just need to see if…"

He let the thought hang in silent air for a moment and then stepped back, willing the gate to open. He would have just apparated in, if the wards weren't so strong. Only in his Auror's robes could he have done that.

After what felt like an agonizing count of minutes, the gates creaked open, allowing the raven-haired man to enter through and up to Malfoy Manor.

"I expected Charles." He said as he walked up to find Malfoy standing suavely in the doorframe. It was the face that had been burned into his skull ever since that night months before. He could barely look at it without thinking of their kiss.

"He gets weekends." The silver-haired man answered, smirk plastered on his face.

Harry stopped a few feet from the door. "You look… thin…" He breathed, nervousness causing his voice to shake.

"That's because I am, you half wit." Draco rolled his eyes. "Can't say you look much better."

"I've been inside for a few months. I've lost track of time."

"Clearly you have. I never thought your skin would look paler than mine." Malfoy laughed cruelly. "In fact, I also think you are thinner than me. You are positively wasting away."

"I haven't been myself lately." A look of such deep and utter loneliness crossed his face Draco allowed his hard exoskeleton to falter for just a second. It was his pity for Harry that made him step aside and allow his old school enemy back into his house after each of their torments.

Harry crossed the threshold of Malfoy's home and he caught a familiar scent. It was Draco's scent – the one that he could remember from that night… It was intoxicating. Without thought, it seemed, Harry found himself closing the distance between Draco and him as the brunette closed in on the scent. Harry's nose found it behind Draco's ear as he rested his lips on the blonde's neck.

Draco's lips found Harry's ear. "Careful, Potter. Last time something like this happened, we didn't see each other for months." Part of his tone was mocking, but there were hidden tones Harry could only identify as languish.

Harry grasped compulsively at Draco's body as he kicked the front door closed with his foot. "I can't stop thinking of you." He said, pulling his head back so he could stare into the other's clear blue eyes. "Why is that?"

Draco swallowed thickly, trying to think of answer, while it was exactly that question that had haunted him during their time apart. The tension in Harry's body was palpable as Draco ran his hands down sinewy arms. Their lips met for the first time in what felt like years as they grappled about, half rough and half gentle in a sort of flowing dance.

Their tongues battled for dominance as they made their way through the house, searching for a place to land. Unfortunately, most of the furniture in the house had been cleaned out. Harry ended up finding himself shoved up against a wall as Draco pushed himself against the other man. As their bodies met, Harry let escape a delicious moan that begged Draco for further action.

Draco unzipped Harry's jacket, pulling it away from his body and allowing it to fall to the floor as Harry began to pull Draco's white shirt over his head. For someone that spent such a long time stuck in the solitude of his own house, Draco's body was in perfect shape. His body was well defined, muscles rippling his abdomen irresistibly.

"Oh, Merlin, Draco." Harry moaned, his name much more natural on his lips than ever before. It was as if the name was meant for his lips as 'Harry' was meant for Draco's.

Draco moaned into Harry's kiss as he unbuttoned the brunette's jeans and pulled down the zipper. He played with the patch of hair that grew below his belly button, right above the other man's underwear and Harry found he could no longer stand the anticipation. Harry picked Draco up, pulling his legs around his waist and he managed to illicit another moan from the blue-eyed man.

"Bedroom." Harry whispered into Draco's mouth between kisses and began to walk with Draco straddling him in the direction he pointed, all the while kissing as if the planet would stop spinning if they were to break apart.

They reached the bedroom, the same white bedroom that Harry spent the night in his first drunken night at the Malfoy residence. He lay Draco gently down on the bed, and then followed, crawling atop the blonde.

"You know…" Harry whispered, his breath haggard. "I've been dreaming about this for a long time."

"What a coincidence." Draco managed with some composure. "So have I."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. I am using JK Rowling's characters for my very own entertainment. I am but a lowly author-in-training, ever seeking a more satisfying end.

Chapter 5

"Slow." Harry muttered against Draco's neck. "Slower."

They were in Draco's bedroom and the blonde straddled the brunette as things grew much hotter. "Slower? I don't think I can bear going much slower, Harry." Draco groaned as Harry rocked his hips roughly downward and their stiff members pressed against each other.

"We're probably going to regret this tomorrow. I want to make it last." Harry grinned and buried his nose in Draco's hair. Smelled of lavender and something muskier.

"Oh?" Draco stiffened. "I didn't know you felt that way. " The blonde began to pull away. "Of course you do. How silly of me. It seems only logical that a Gryffindor would regret sleeping with a Slytherin. Or is it because I'm a Death Eater? Can't handle the heat, Potter?" Said Death Eater tried to release himself from Harry's grasp, but the Golden Boy held tight.

"Hey, stop." Harry chided, pulling Draco back to look in his eyes. "It's because I'm a young, freshly divorced ball of confusion sleeping with a man for the first time." His cheeks tinged at that, but he continued to stare into grey eyes.

Draco shied away, trying to avoid eye contact.

"I'm here for you. By some stroke of amazing genius, we are friends. In fact, we're more than friends. For the past months, Draco, I can't get out of my mind the way that your lips feel against mine." Harry cleared his throat, passion and lust lacing every word. "I can't cease thinking about the sounds you might make when I do this." Harry then bucked his hips slowly and seductively into Draco's, thus forcing a deep guttural moan from the other's throat.

"I have dreamed so many times about what we're about to do, I'm almost too afraid to do it. That somehow it's all going to shatter just by a word I say, a word you say, what the Ministry might say... But I want it so bad that it doesn't matter. I just want you, Draco… Please." Harry stroked Draco's shoulder with his thumb, willing the other to answer with a "yes." Just a simple "yes."

Draco was now staring into Harry's eyes and the brunette could no longer bear the tension. He closed his green-orbed eyes and willed the other to just accept him and all his confusion.

It was then that Harry felt Draco's lips back on his. Somehow, his chest felt like it was to explode, the emotion surged so intensely. It was no longer a game about what was too slow or too fast. It was a deep primal need for each other.

It was flashes of teeth and nails on each other's skin. It was rough, but pure, each of the pair no longer holding back. They tumbled on the pure white bedspread, grasping each other, getting close as possible. They were undressed and soaking each other up and thinking of each other as gods. They were beautiful Greek statues, tumbling around in ecstasy.

"Oh, Merlin, Harry. I need…" Draco sucked in a breath as Harry spun beneath him, holding his body up on all fours so Draco could take him.

"It's okay. Do it. I want you to." Harry begged, exposing his ass to the blonde. He pushed his body back, against Malfoy, encouraging the other to continue.

Malfoy lowered himself atop Harry and wrapped his arm around to pump his hand against Harry's throbbing cock. With his free hand, he took pre-cum dripping from his own member and readied Harry with it.

"Come on." Harry begged, arching his back as Draco let go of Harry's cock and pushed a finger and then two inside. "Fuck me… Do it."

Draco waited for no more invitation as he positioned himself in front of Harry's virgin hole and then pushed himself inside. Harry sucked in breath and released a different kind of moan. One made out of pain and pleasure. It was a sound out of waiting and anticipation. Want and need.

The blonde began to rock his hips back and forth, pumping in and out of Harry as slowly as he could what with his throbbing member.

Harry managed the pain as well as welcomed the pleasure as Draco plunged into his asshole, hitting his prostate and sending ripples of pleasure throughout his body. Draco could no longer contain a steady speed and began to rush, slapping his own hips against Harry's ass. With each thrust, Harry's voice jumped and he began to pump his dick as he neared his own release.

Draco and Harry began to grunt at the same time as Draco slammed in and out over and over. Their speed increased as Draco wildly moved in and out of Harry, nearing his orgasm.

Harry could no longer suppress his own release as shuddering pleasure overtook his body and he came all over the white duvet beneath him. His screams echoed in the bedroom as he came, his voice affected by the still pumping Draco.

It only took a few seconds longer for Draco to reach his end as his screams mingled with Harry's panting. Draco collapsed on top of Harry, still grunting in pleasure as it continued to wave over him and his cum filled Harry's rectum.

The two remained like that for a long while – Draco inside of Harry as the two breathed pleasure into the bed sheets.

It seemed like forever as Draco and Harry regained their breath and finally detached. Draco lay down beside Harry, stroking the hairs on his arm as Harry closed his eyes and smiled.

"I'm sorry. I can't stand the silence. The anticipation is killing me." Draco finally blurted at Harry's silent face.

His smile grew on the Golden Boy's lips and his eyes fluttered open. "Anticipation?"

"How was it?" The blonde begged. "Was it terrible? Did I hurt you?"

Harry nudged himself closer to the anxious one and pressed his forehead to Draco's. "I won't lie to you. It hurt more than I thought…" He allowed the anticipation to build a little more.

"… But?" Draco asked expectantly.

"But." Harry laughed and then placed a kiss on the other's lips. "It was perfect."

* * *

><p>It was morning again and Harry found himself back in the mysterious place that wasn't so mysterious anymore. This time, there was a man in his arms and a settled feeling in the pit of his stomach. He stared at the face of the sleeping other and tried to remember a time when he felt happier.<p>

"Good morning." Draco mumbled, eyes closed. "You know, I half expected you to run off in the middle of the night."

"I'm here. I couldn't leave. I like your arms." Harry added, a little embarrassed.

Draco opened his eyes and sneered. "What, Potter? Getting a little cheesy, aren't we?"

"Oh, shut it." The other chided, trying to locate his glasses, a sinking feeling that they had been squashed.

"You know, there are spells you can use to fix that." Draco raised his eyebrows as he watched the young-looking Harry search for his glasses.

"I know. I just never bothered…" Harry pulled back the covers and hopped out, checking the floor where some of their clothes ended up and turned when he heard Draco suck in a breath.

His eyes were wide as he feasted on Harry's body in the morning light.

"What?" Harry covered himself self-consciously, his hands cupping his penis.

"Nothing." Draco barely kept himself from drooling, mouth wide open. "Things really do look better in the morning… If possible."

Harry blushed, but picked up white undies from the floor and slid them on. "Have you seen my glasses?"

"I think I took them off while we were still downstairs." Draco murmured absent-mindedly. "Come back here."

Harry smiled in what he must have thought was a seductive manner, but failed all together, causing Draco to laugh as Harry pounced his way back into bed and in his new lover's arms. Draco held Harry against his chest and they stared at a painting of every color together.

"You know, all this laughing at me is starting to make me feel a little insecure." Harry complained half-heartedly. "Say something nice about me."

"No." Draco answered defiantly. "You first."

"You're beautiful." Harry answered without hesitation. "You are braver than I ever thought when we were in school together. You are smart and funny. You saved my life… You have lips like rose petals. Eyelashes like spider webs. I am so happy here with you, I don't think I can ever go back."

A strangled noise escaped Draco's mouth, as if he were trying to hold it in. Harry turned to look at Draco's face and rested his head on the pillow next to the other man. "Than don't. Don't go back. Stay here with me." He said this while still looking at the painting, still too afraid to look at Harry.

"Draco?" Harry stroked the other's abdomen with his finger.

"Yes?" He answered, still staring at the painting.

"I still don't understand you." Harry began slowly. "Why all the animosity in school?"

"It was just meant to be, Harry." Draco finally tore his gaze from the painting and searched green eyes. "We were always supposed to be enemies. From the first day, you refused to befriend me and you were sorted into Gryffindor. It just came to be that we were enemies."

"I hardly think that's very mature." Harry complained.

"We were eleven years old." Draco rolled his eyes. "I don't think we were expected to be particularly mature. In fact, you were the only one who was at all mature. And it was the most annoying thing, Potter. You were like fucking Jesus or something. You walked on water. No one touched you. It drove me mad."

The other laughed. "I didn't know. I guess I just lacked… perspective…"

"There you go again! Being the hero once more, taking responsibility. Don't you ever say the wrong thing?" Fire burned in his eyes and Harry had to look away from the heat.

"Oh, I've said the wrong thing. Time and time again. I regret so much… I wish I could take it all back, but I can't. I have to just accept that it all happened and it's beautiful. Voldemort's gone and we can all resume our lives. I can go back to normal." Harry sighed. "Whatever that means."

"What's the worst part?" Draco didn't miss a beat, curiosity controlling his words.

"I feel so confused about what I should feel. I feel everything at once. I have ever since that day. I can't seem to pick an emotion." Harry said, finally letting loose what he'd been holding in. They were words he had never gotten a chance to say throughout the expectation of the public and his friends. He could never just be selfish. "It's like, with Voldemort's death, I changed. Everyone was always all over me, wanting a piece of it – a piece of me. Someone has always wanted something from me.

"At first it was photographs and interviews. My face was yet again on the front page of the paper every day. Ron and Hermione were so happy it made me want to gag. They just wanted to be with each other day in and day out. I went with Ginny, cause I thought it was what I was supposed to do. The Weasely's were over the fucking moon with happiness that he was gone, but also was the underlying anguish over Fred's… death. And it just brought them all closer together. I felt like an intruder in something I had no business in. I haven't even seen my aunt, my uncle or my cousin since the summer before that year. They weren't even invited to the wedding.

"I killed someone. People died for me. And you know the worst part? I feel guilty because I feel like a part of me died that night. In fact, a part of me did die that night." A tear slid down Harry's cheek.

"I can't speak Parseltongue anymore. I can't understand it. I think about it, but my brain just seizes up, like I'm accessing information that I don't have any more." Harry shook his head. "And I know I shouldn't miss it. It's stupid. Voldemort's dead and I should want no more connection. But it's like something that I spent my whole life with just vanished. A whole part of my personality is just gone. And I feel weak. I feel uninteresting and uninterested. I feel like a shell."

They sat there in silence as Harry's last words drifted into the quiet of the room and Draco simply held on, providing no answer, just comfort. And then Draco placed the smallest of kisses on Harry's lips. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving." Harry finally said, his voice a little hoarse.

"Let's make breakfast."

* * *

><p>Hm... Reviews?<p> 


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